Feelin' This
by 213xcreep
Summary: Stan and Kyle go skating, leading to some interesting revelations. Oneshot. Fluff.


"Goddammit, Stan, where are we going?" Kyle said irritably, following the lead of Stan's hand encasing his.

"Hold on, it'll be fun. Don't be so impatient." Stan walked through the clear snow, being careful to avoid tripping Kyle.

"Ok, fine." Kyle said unenthusiastically.

"We're here!" Stan took off Kyle's white blindfold and tucked it into his coat pocket.

"I've always wanted to come here. My parents never wanted me to get hurt." Kyle's eyes were wide with amazement, admiring the large skating rink.

"Let's go get skates." Stan walked up to the skate vendor.

"Two pairs, eight and nine, please." Stan said as he handed the vendor the money and grabbed the skates, thanking him.

"Come here, I'll lace you up." Stan said, leading Kyle to the bench and kneeling in front of him, weaving the laces through the skates.

"Okay, done." Stan murmured as he stood up and sat beside Kyle.

"I'll be just a minute." Stan added. Kyle sat back and watched Stan's fingers move intricately.

"Okay, I'm done. Let's go." Stan exclaimed. He was trying to hide the excitement in his voice. It didn't work well.

"Help me stand up." Kyle extended a hand and stood up, starting to fall as soon as he stood on the blades.

"Hey, are you alright?" Stan said worriedly, catching Kyle and getting him balanced.

"Here, I'll hold your hand so you don't fall again." Stan continued as he lead him over to the ice.

"Okay, so you glide your feet like this." Stan demonstrated.

"I can't do that, it's too goddamn hard!" Kyle hissed.

"It's okay, grab the rail and my hand, I'll help." Stan said sympathetically. They skated for five minutes, going around half the rink when Kyle tumbled back over, hitting the ice harshly, bringing Stan down with him.

"Ow, fuck! " Kyle yelled. They kneeled on the ice.

"Are you alright? Did you get hurt?" Stan questioned, genuinely concerned for Kyle's well-being.

"I'm fine. Are you okay?" Kyle responded.

"Yeah." Stan looked down. They were still holding hands.

"Fuck, sorry." Stan let go of Kyle's hand, his face rosy. He looked up from his hand, meeting Kyle's eyes. He never realized how pretty they were.

"It's alright." Kyle said quietly, as if he was in a trance. They sat there leaned against the wall, still staring at each other, finding comfort in the silence, and one another.

"Kyle.." Stan paused and looked back down.

"I have to tell you something. I.." Stan stopped again and took a breath.

"I really like you. Like, seriously like."

"Since when? You aren't gay. Don't fuck with me. Dude, that isn't funny." Kyle retorted.

"Look, I'm being serious. I've always liked you. That's why I took you here. I thought you would like it and I wanted a nice place to tell you all this. Remember when we were ten, and we got in that big fight? I was so jealous of Cartman. It seems so stupid looking back on it now. I think I always liked you. I didn't want to believe I was gay, but I guess I am." Stan was still staring at his lap, watching his hands.

"What about Wendy?" Kyle pried.

"I don't think I ever liked her. I mean, she made me physically sick. I just wanted to date someone and be accepted, I guess. You're the only person I've ever felt totally comfortable with." He looked up and let out a heavy sigh, watching his breath in the cold air. They sat in silence for a few minutes, not watching each other.

"Stan." Kyle whispered. He looked up, finally making eye contact with Kyle again. He let his lips brush against Stan's.

"Don't tell anyone about this." Kyle whispered, close to Stan's ear.

"Okay."

/A Day Later/

"Stan, will you make me some soup?" Kyle still had bruises, and was sick. The ice was too cold.

"Yeah, sure." He went in the kitchen and opened a can, and put the bowl of soup in the microwave. He went back to the couch and sat next to Kyle.

"Stan, this is your fault. I feel shitty. And bruised."

"Aww. Want me to kiss it? Poor baby." Stan said teasingly.

"Shut up." Kyle said, his face turning scarlet.

"What're you gonna do about it?" Stan taunted.

Kyle responded by leaning in and holding Stan's wrists, smashing his lips into Stan's. He leaned back, the blush spreading over his face.

"There. Now you can be sick, too."


End file.
